From 1
Order Out of the Mess
Imagine there's nothing. No ground, no sky. Just a dark, churning soup of water and wind. It's cold, pitch black, and one big mess.
Then says: let there be light. And there is light.
But light alone isn't enough. So the tidying begins. God draws lines. To the water he says: you go down there. What's above, we'll call sky.
Every day the world takes a little more shape. Plants push up, whales start swimming, everything crawls into its own corner. Everything gets its own place.
And on the seventh day, when the biggest project ever is finished, God sits down. Looks at what's there. And rests.
For today
Does this sound familiar?
Your room. Lego all over the floor, markers underneath, clothes in a pile, books half off your bed. And when it's time to sleep you can't, because your head feels just as messy as your floor.
Or a week. Monday school and football, Tuesday swimming lessons, Wednesday a party, and by Thursday you're wiped out. That's the churning soup.
You can't tidy everything at once. But you can do one thing. Put your markers away. Or say you're not coming on Wednesday. One line is often enough to breathe again.
Tidy up? Not a chance. I'm sweeping it all under the rug — no one's ever going to notice!
Take a look in the mirror:
- How does it feel in your stomach when everything around you is really messy or really busy?
- What do you like doing best when you don't have to do anything at all?
- If you could cancel one thing from your week, what would it be?
Mirror line
I'd love to just shove everything under my bed and leave it a mess, but I've learned you don't fix chaos all at once — you just start with one line.
From 3
Suddenly You See Everything
and live in a garden where everything is good. has given them one rule: stay away from that one tree.
And of course. Whenever something's forbidden.
There's a snake that whispers: just take a bite. Then you'll finally know how things really are.
They take a bite. And instantly everything is different.
Their eyes open. They no longer see the world as a place where everything works out by itself. They understand what danger is. They look at themselves and think: we have nothing to wear.
For the first time they feel ashamed. They hide in the bushes and hope no one sees them.
The time when they thought about nothing is over. And it doesn't come back.
For today
Does this sound familiar?
You accidentally overhear something that wasn't meant for you. Grown-ups arguing in the kitchen while they think you're asleep. Or something on the news that you're still thinking about that night.
You never used to think about that. Now you do. And you can't go back to how it was.
Or this. You say something mean and you watch the other person's face change. In that moment you know exactly what you've done. It makes you go hot, and you want to disappear.
Say sorry? I'll pass. I'll just point at whoever's standing closest!
Take a look in the mirror:
- When did you most want to make yourself really small?
- What do you know now that you'd rather not know?
- Would you want to go back to being as little as you used to be? Really think about it.
Mirror line
I'd love to pretend I hadn't heard it, but I've learned you can't go back to not-knowing, however much you'd sometimes like to.
From 4
The Green Monster
and are brothers. They both bring a gift. Cain brings grain from his land, Abel brings his best sheep.
And then something painful happens. is pleased with Abel's gift. Not with Cain's.
Cain becomes furious. Not right away — it starts with a face like a coming storm. God tells him: watch out, this feeling is crouching at your door like an animal. You can master it.
But he doesn't listen.
He asks his brother to go out into the field with him. And there he kills him.
When God later asks where Abel is, Cain says: how should I know? Am I supposed to watch my brother?
It's the first story in the Bible about two people having a conflict. It ends as badly as it possibly could, right away.
For today
Does this sound familiar?
You've practiced your lines for the school play for weeks. You know every word. And who gets the lead? That girl who only showed up to audition yesterday. She gets all the compliments.
You tell a friend: she's not even that good, honestly.
That's the green monster. You're hoping to feel a little bigger by making her smaller.
It doesn't work, by the way. Usually it just makes you feel worse.
Be happy for her? Hard pass. I'll just say she didn't deserve it anyway!
Take a look in the mirror:
- When did you say something unkind about someone who had actually done something well?
- Where in your body do you feel jealousy? Your stomach, your throat, behind your eyes?
- Imagine you'd gotten the lead instead. Would you have noticed how the other person felt?
Mirror line
I'd love to say she wasn't even that good, but I've learned jealousy is usually just grief wearing a disguise.
